What Time Brings
by WiseDraco
Summary: For my avid readers ...you'll like this. Very Shades Of gray-esque. A collection of poem like stories to create full out story. All Harry's POV. You just have to read to find out. Dedicated to Rae -see? What did I tell you?- & DMH.
1. What I'm Running From

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

_**Please Review**. **More to come**._

_Ever lovin'_

_WiseD  
_

* * *

He loves magic …

He_ loves_ magic …

Truly he does …

Loves what it fills him with …

Loves the utter power he has when he wields it …

But there are times when he can't stand it.

There are times when he hates it with every once of everything he is.

There are times where he wishes he were still that little 'freak' who didn't know why he was one.

And even worse …there are times when he wishes he didn't know how his parents had died or what his mother had died for.

In those moments …he hates himself.

With every ounce of everything he is.

So he runs …

Everyday …

No matter how cold or how hot it is,

He runs.

It's the only tangible release he has.

The pounding of his heart through his body.

The sound of his feet hitting whatever land he chooses to run on.

And the slight burn in his lungs.

It's _real_.

It's accepted no matter where you go.

Running is just …mundane.

Most people have done it at very least once in their life.

It's his connection.

His connection to people who aren't _The Chosen One_ or _The Boy Who Lived_.

His connection to the ground and sand and air and water and everything else that does not constantly question his every move.

He doesn't have to be powerful to run.

Doesn't have to dress a certain way or act a certain way he can just …

_Be_.

He remembered when he was naive enough to think that if he won the War then it would be over.

It's not though …of course it's not.

Never will be it seems.

He still has to fake like he gives a shite.

Which he does but after twelve years of knowing, twenty-three of just _being_, who he is …what he is …

He's tired.

So he runs.

Away.

Toward.

Near.

Far.

Fast.

Slow.

It doesn't matter.

Just keep running …

Just keep going.

Because eventually …

Maybe …

If he goes fast enough …

It won't burn so much.

It won't feel like he's failed as a human being, _Not _as the "Boy Wonder".

He won't feel like a failure.

Certainly he was successful at "Winning" the War.

He was born for that …you can't fail at something you're created for.

Not really anyway.

But …

Well …

He'd honestly believed he was supposed to die.

Was still convinced he _was_.

Maybe he was.

Maybe that was why he couldn't feel anything …

Why he just didn't _give _a shite.

He was dead.

And was trapped in Limbo because really that's just how his fucking fucked up life played out.

Save the World, yes the _World _…

And get fucked.

Bitter?

You bet.

He had right …

Could be a prick if he damn well wanted to …

Bobby Brown was fucking right …

It's his fucking _prerogative_.

Could be whatever the fuck he wanted.

No one could stop him.

Not One.

Single.

Fucking.

_Anyone_.

Didn't mean people didn't try.

Merlin forbid they just _leave _him the fuck_ alone_.

They wanted to help.

He knew that.

Knew it.

Just didn't care.

Didn't want help.

Was fine just the way he was.

Liked being a bitter young, old man.

It suited him.

Dammit.

He had tried not to be …

Tried to be happy …for her.

But he wasn't.

Not with her.

Not near her.

Not even inside her.

Can't imagine what it does to a guy when he's not _happy inside _of a beautiful woman.

But normalcy and Harry Potter did _not _go hand-in-hand.

Like the ultimate oxymoron.

Jumbo Shrimp.

Girly Man.

And,

White Lie.

Did not even _compare _to the oxymoronic idea that was

Harry Potter's Normalcy.

(sigh)

That was al shite of course.

He did care. (Sort of)

He just _wished _he didn't.

Dammit.

He and her had broken up.

That part was true.

As terrible as it was …

Which is just his fucking luck.

Of course what he doesn't _want _to be true _is _true.

Fate is a fucking bastard.

She's happy now and really …

(Aside from Ron's and Hermione's happiness.)

That's really _all _that matters.

Seamus is a good man anyways …

He makes her happy.

And that …well that even makes him a little Happy.

Just a little.

But He wants more.

He wants more ...

Just for Him.

* * *


	2. Force of Fate

_Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

_**Please Review. More to come.**_

_Ever lovin'_

_WiseD_

* * *

Bastard.

Git.

Git of _All _Gits …

Is still fitting for one Draco Malfoy.

He's still the _Amazing Bouncing Ferret_.

Still A prick.

And A Brat.

And still …

_Still _fucking sexy as hell.

Bastard.

He hates that stupid snooty blond.

Hates that he's the only one who can make him feel.

Well, everyone does …but Malfoy is the only one who makes his blood boil like he did at Hogwarts.

The only one who ever makes him feel like he did then.

When everything was new …and beautiful.

He thinks it's funny that someone so utterly terrible can make him feel like he did when everything was so wonderful.

He doesn't care that he switched sides …he doesn't care that Malfoy nearly lost his life …he's still a dick.

Or so Harry tells himself.

Because it's so much easier to admit _that_ …

-And _that _is still partially true-

then to admit that Malfoy, of all people, is the only one who makes him feel …happy.

Yes _during _their arguments he's pissed.

But afterward?

Oh _afterward_ …

When they both are so close only a breath separates them and that falsely angelic face is flushed pink and those lips, that sneer so often, are _full _and slightly wet …and oh _God_ …

Oh _God _…

All He can think about is what it would be like to press against that lithe body …

To tangle his fingers into that silken hair.

To watch the soft supple mouth form the sounds of euphoria…

To hear those sounds fall from those lips like honey from that venomous tongue.

And every time he thinks that…

He wants to slap himself.

Almost more then what he _really _wants to do.

But either way really…

Neither are too brilliant of an idea.

Kissing that mouth and pleasuring that body is a thought that is fruitless and slapping himself …

Well …

Nothing really needs to be said about that.

So what he does do is mentally bitch to himself about what a moron he is because isn't it just Harry Potter's luck that he just _has _to fall for the one person who he can't have.

Because Merlin knows if _Potter _got what _Potter _wanted the earth would come to a shuddering halt and be thrown of its axis.

And God forbid_ that _should_ ever _happen.

So all he can really think is how stupid he was to assume that he could really ever be happy.

And yes he knows he complains a lot but really if no one knows it shouldn't make a difference right?

Because that's just it …

No one knows.

No one pays attention.

Ever.

So imagine his surprise when wonder of wonders,

The Git looks up from their paperwork one night

(Because they just _have _to work together …)

And asks,

"Are you alright?"

Yes there is a sneer.

And true there is that tone,

The I-don't-really-care-but-I-thought-I-should-ask-out-of-common-courtesy tone.

But in all honestly …

When does Malfoy ever use any other tone?

So Harry just stares at him for what feels like forever.

And granted he has been asked this question before …

A million times before in fact.

But that Malfoy said it …

With something in his eye that might be actual concern

(If you squint and cock your head a bit.)

Means _something_.

Even if it's only a tiny something.

And for the first time in a long time Harry shakes his head

"Not really."

More surprised is Malfoy.

More surprised that Harry spoke back with no venom or more surprised that Harry is in fact _not _alright, Harry's not sure but really it doesn't matter.

Especially when Draco puts aside the folder,

Takes a deep breath, and looks him square in the eye

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Now Harry knows that this is not easy for Malfoy to ask.

So that he did …means more to him then he could say.

And that's really how it starts.

Just simple conversations.

Amazing, Harry thinks, that only three words can have the full force of fate.

Three simple words ...

And yes he knows there ar three other words that have more force then even fate could _hope _to have but really ...

For right now ...

This is enough.

"Are you alright?"

Is more then enough.


	3. Worried

_Hello people! I know I haven't been on in about 27 million years but I have good reason. My computer decided to die. I didn't get a new one till Christmas and then I couldn't think of what to write till now! Plus my job, and school and moving did make some sort of interference in my life. I do apologize. Either way …here is the third addition to what time brings!_

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

_**Please Review!**_

_Ever lovin'_

_WiseD _

* * *

It's not enough.

Not anymore.

It was, Harry knows that.

"Are you alright?" Was all he though he needed.

But he knew that _was _all he needed.

All he needed,

But now …now he wants more.

Now he wants three different words.

Now he wants three different words that mean much more and sometimes he thinks that could happen.

But just as Draco gets closer he gets further away.

Harry swears that sometimes he can almost see feeling break through that cold exterior and then just as soon as it shows itself it's sucks back in and Draco is Malfoy once again.

He wants days that he will wake with the blond …

Just that.

Days where he will wake up and that silver eyed beauty will be right next to him under the covers.

Breathing deeply, eyelids fluttering with dreams, and lips sleep puffed.

He wants every round about second of every useless fight they have to mean that at night he gets to hold that gorgeous body and kiss that vile, sweet, beautiful mouth.

Because at least then …at least then he will have something.

Something he wants.

Something he needs.

In one conversation they discussed what side of the bed they both sleep on.

Oddly enough it was the right for the both of them.

But Harry would give up that side.

He would give up _his _side of the bed gladly.

But no matter how much he wants that he can't get the guts to say anything.

No matter how much he wants to press his mouth to the others he cant seem to ask for it or just take it.

Him of all people.

Harry James Potter.

The man who faced the most fearful being on the earth when he was thirteen can't ask another man out.

The man who defeated a _mountain _troll before puberty just can't seem to go up and ask for a single date with the other that he wants.

And all Harry can think is that he is an idiot.

So he goes out and runs again.

Because that's his way of not kicking the crap out of himself for _not _asking.

His lungs burn and he revels in it.

His legs start to ache but that's alright.

And suddenly he realizes that he has run right past the time he normally meets Draco.

True they had never really _set _a time but it had been going on for three weeks now so it was something of an un-written rule.

Like standing in line or facing forward when you were waiting for a door to open.

He shook his head, he highly doubted Draco cared much but either way he made his way to their meeting place and walked inside still breathing heavily and sweating profusely.

Obviously he was wrong though.

Draco was upset.

He was upset enough, in fact, to throw a book at the other the moment he walked inside.

"Where the hell have you been?" is shouted and Harry's is confused.

So he voices his confusion.

Which earns him yet another book to his noggin.

"_Well?!"_

Harry replies, stupidly, that he didn't know they were supposed to meet.

Emphasis on the stupid part.

He gets another book to the head.

Now he's mad and Draco's mad but Harry's still can't figure out why the other is mad.

So he asks why.

Which Draco avoids the question completely and continues to yell until Harry stops him by grabbing his arms and asking again why he's so upset.

The blond says nothing.

And Harry asks for the third time.

Draco looks at him …and then looks away.

And in a voice so low he has to strain to hear it Draco says,

"I was worried."

And then Harry thinks that there is hope …

Maybe just a little.

_**TBC...**_


End file.
